


Calling a Truce

by ElwritesFanworks



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Ambushes and Sneak Attacks, Argonians have hemipenes, Awkward Boners, Bandits & Outlaws, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Cold Weather, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dark Elves, Dark Past, Dirty Talk, Ears, Friendship, Frottage, Gills, Hand Jobs, Healing, Hemipenes, Horses, Inappropriate Erections, Licking, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Injuries, Non-Human Genitalia, Non-Sexual Slavery, Outdoor Sex, Past Child Abuse, Past Violence, Post-Quest, Priests, Racism, Rough Sex, Scars, Slave Trade, Slurs, Snow, Snow and Ice, Spoilers, Tails, Tension, Threats of Violence, Travel, Uneasy Allies, Violence, Virginity, eating your rival's heart in battle, errogenous zones, human-bashing, nuzzling, retractable penises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 17:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElwritesFanworks/pseuds/ElwritesFanworks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dragonborn is an Argonian nationalist with notions of racial supremacy. The last person he'd expected to be travelling with was the scrawnly dark elf he found in Dawnstar. Yet the Dunmer has lingered, and Heart-Eater cannot find it in himself complain. Still, with tension between them, it's no surprise when things inevitably boil over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calling a Truce

**Author's Note:**

> The dragonborn, in this case, is an Argonian named Heart-Eater because he... well... eats hearts. Sometimes. It's a posturing/threatening thing he picked up over the years. He's also a racist little shit if you're anything but Argonian, yourself.
> 
> The fic is set post-quest (Waking Nightmare,) some time after the dragonborn and Erandur have destroyed the skull.
> 
> As for why Heart-Eater doesn't outwardly identify as Saxhleel it's mainly because I didn't feel like getting into that/explaining it to the readers who might not known all that. /lazyauthorislazy
> 
> I'm taking liberties with Argonian genitals because I've always wanted to write hemipenes and didn't know when I'd next get the chance.
> 
> Snowfoot is Heart-Eater's horse.
> 
> Also, I realized, after writing this, that Erandur wasn't wearing any underwear. Welp. Maybe he likes to leave himself swinging free. :P

* * *

"Hurry along now, elf. I see a crag up ahead. Provided it's not full of beasties meaning to tear us limb from limb, we can set up camp there for the night."

The wintry wind stole the words from the Argonian's scaled lips as he spoke them, and would have been lost on any human's inferior ears. He watched the small shape of his follower as it grew nearer and larger, until at last the Dunmer was at his side, panting and rubbing his hands together for warmth.

"Must you take such long strides? I am not so young, nor do I have such lengthy legs."

"I offered you a seat on Snowfoot."

Erandur snorted.

"I've seen it bolt at a moment's notice - I'd rather crawl."

"You may, as long as you keep up. Come, I want to eat soon."

"I am walking as fast as I can," the priest snapped, and Heart-Eater hid a grin in response. He enjoyed riling up his companion.

"You should never have come here!"

The warning interrupted the Argonian's train of thought, and he had just enough time to dismount Snowfoot and ready his warhammer before he and Erandur were subjected to a barrage of arrows.

A group of bandits emerged from behind an outcropping of icy rock. Without restraint, Heart-Eater drew his thick arm back and swung his warhammer in a great arc, charging towards the enemy. The blunt end collided against the bandit's shoddy helmet with a loud clang, and the satisfactory sensation of cracking skull reverberated through the Argonian's torso. He tore off the man's breast-plate and dug into his chest, yanking out his still-warm heart. With fire in his eyes, the dragonborn bared his teeth and roared at the remaining bandits - all of them Nords who looked at him with repulsion and terror - and threw back his head, releasing booming laughter as they turned and fled.

"Let your comrade's death be a lesson to you, human scum!" he taunted, lifting the organ to his lips and devouring it in full view of their horrified eyes. "He who crosses Heart-Eater will pay for it in blood!"

He continued to laugh as they retreated into the mountains, before losing interest in the cowards and squatting low to pilfer the mutilated human corpse.

"Nothing worth keeping," he grumbled. "Self-made armor, cheap bow... hello, what have we here?"

There was a ring in the dead bandit's pocket. The sight of it drained the blood from Heart-Eater's face.

"Those vermin! A pox be on them!" he growled under his breath.

"Steady, my son. What is it?"

The Argonian looked up. Erandur had, seeing he was not immediately needed, stayed by Snowfoot's side, keeping a firm hand on her bridle to keep her from dashing into harm's way during the fight. He looked mildly alarmed by Heart-Eater's display of bloodlust, but they had been travelling together for nearly two moons and he had long stopped voicing his objections.

"Look at this!" the Argonian snarled, forcing the ring into Erandur's cold, grey hands. He peered at it.

"A ring."

"Yes, a ring! A very _special_ ring to someone, too, I'd wager. Look - three amethysts. This is an Argonian wedding band."

Erandur handed it back to his scaled companion.

"You seem to have a talent for getting us mixed up in other people's business. Perhaps you can find out who it was stolen from and return it?"

"Impossible. The world is too vast to find the owner of one, lone ring."

"Clearly, you're distressed. I could help you - with our combined knowledge and skill -"

"No, Erandur. Let's make camp, before night falls and we're left out here as wolf-bait."

Erandur followed Heart-Eater in silence, leading Snowfoot towards the safety of the crag. By the time he caught up to Heart-Eater, the Argonian was on his knees in the snow, spreading pelts and blankets out to make a shelter. They had stocked up on firewood before leaving the main road for the wilderness; Erandur piled them and lit them and only once he was bathed in a warm glow did he pause.

That's when he saw it, sticking out from between two plates of Heart-Eater's stolen armor.

"Mara help you, you've been shot!"

Heart-Eater turned and looked at his pierced side.

"Well-spotted, elf."

That said, he turned back to arranging the bedrolls.

“Curse those damn Nords, stealing something as precious as that ring. To them it is a mere trinket! And to think, some poor marsh-friend could have worked for years just to afford to have it made!”

The Argonian spat in the snow, disgust marring his features. Erandur ignored him.

"We must do something - you must let me heal you."

"I am fine -"

"I insist. I have pledged to follow you - let me assist!"

Heart-Eater smoothed the edge of the bedroll down and sat upon it with a poorly-stifled grunt of pain. He worried open the fastenings of his heavy armor - some good they did him, he muttered, and Erandur conceded it was awfully unlucky for the arrow to have found the tiny weak point - and set it aside, and his roughspun tunic also, and at last he was bare from the waist up.

Erandur drew in close, laying his cool hands on the reptile's broad chest. He examined the wound thoroughly before taking hold of the arrow.

"Easy does it - this will hurt."

"No surprise there. Go on."

Erandur eased the arrow out slowly, concentrating his magicka on healing the bleeding spot.  The arrow had gone deep, and even with the accelerated healing, the wound would surely scar. Erandur studied the scales there, raised and out of alignment.

"Not my first scar," Heart-Eater said gruffly. Erandur nodded; there was no hiding the crisscross of discolored, crooked scales on the Argonian's body.

"Here," he said, catching the dark elf's hand in his own and lifting it to the base of his throat. "Petty thief mistook me for a drunkard - thought he could slit my throat and make off with my things. He was a human, of course."

"Of course."

"And here, some idiot sicked his dogs on me. I was trespassing, yes, but it was under special circumstances. I never saw him, but he had to be a human too, living in a lavish home as he was."

"You don't like humans."

"Do you?"

Erandur shrugged.

"I try to take them as they are."

"What a sapless answer. Your actions betray your roots."

"To what, the Pale? Or do you mean to say that former cultists are irresolute?"

"Neither. You _know_ what I mean to say. Your sort would sooner die than give a straight answer."

Erandur scowled.

"Your racial prejudice limits you," he responded simply, withdrawing his hands.

"My racial prejudice."

"Yes."

Something flickered in the dragonborn's eyes. He turned, baring his back to the elf.

Erandur, having spent so long as a priest of Vaermina, had seen true horror. The mess of Heart-Eater's back, while not exceptional in its hideousness or its brutality, still shocked him to his core.

"My racial prejudice is warranted. I have been given permission to hate as I choose by every lashing I received at the hands of your hate-mongering kinfolk, gray-skin."

Heart-Eater turned back around, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I apologize, truly, but I stand by what I said. You have a clever soul, though your anger blinds you. You could be so much more than this. I hope, in time, I can broaden your mind."

Erandur punctuated his words with a gentle touch to the fresh scar on the Argonian's side. Heart-Eater grimaced and averted his eyes.

"Yes... well. You have done enough, for now."

Erandur's retort died on his lips at the sight of a deep gash just above the uppermost edge of Heart-Eater's loincloth.

"You never said they slashed at you! Gods, do you want to die?"

"No, that's not -"

Erandur's pale grey fingertips slid over the slit, pressing into it slightly.

"Strange... this place is wet, yet you don't seem to be bleeding. What - oh!"

Erandur watched, silent with surprise, as two pinkish protrusions emerged from the split in Heart-Eater's loins.

"Watch it, elf," the Argonian hissed as the new appendages strained and swelled, unfurling. Realization came upon Erandur like a cold breeze and he withdrew his hand as though he'd been burned.

"They... you're..."

"Your fault," Heart-Eater grimaced as their dark red, flower-like heads unfurled. The twin pricks were each about as long as Erandur's forearm and as thick as his wrist and Mara pity him, they were _barbed._

They sat in silence for a moment, the Argonian with his head tipped back and his eyes shut, the Dunmer suddenly hyper-aware of the sticky fluid that clung to him where he'd touched the dragonborn. He rubbed his fingers together, gritting his teeth.

"I didn't mean to," he said at last. "Had I known..."

"You know _now._ What'll you do, elf?"

The Argonian's eyes were amber slits. Erandur swallowed. He was shaking.

"I... I don't know," he admitted in a hushed tone.

"What would you normally do? With another of your own kind?" Heart-Eater prompted. Erandur shrugged, mesmerized by the reptile's twitching members.

"What I know, I know in theory only. There wasn't an emphasis on this sort of thing when I served Vaermina... Mara has blessed me in many ways since, but she hasn't given me the opportunity to learn more of this particular manifestation of love."

A slightly disconcerting look of tenderness crossed the dragonborn's face.

"A virgin, of all things? My little elf..."

"You needn't make fun -"

"I'm not," the Argonian replied, and the next thing Erandur knew, he was gathered up in thick, cool arms.

Argonian physiology did not lend itself well to kissing, but what Heart-Eater's biology lacked he made up for with ingenuity. His long, dexterous tongue wriggled into Erandur's mouth and squirmed against his teeth. The elf could taste the Nord bandit's blood in the kiss and the memory of Heart-Eater's warhammer swinging made his length stiffen under his robes.

 _"Nngh_ \- I thought you didn't _\- huh-_ like elves," Erandur managed as Heart-Eater moved to lick along his neck and jaw, scraping his scaled chin against the dark elf's beard.

"You're the exception," Heart-Eater said simply, his tongue extending to trace the pointed tip of Erandur's ear. The sensation had him falling boneless into the Argonian's arms, his legs spreading instinctively.

"Oh," he said softly as the dragonborn's large, scaled palm reached for him under his thin robes.

"I knew you'd be mine one day, priest," Heart-Eater hissed, sounding more bestial than usual. He tightened his grip on the dark elf's cock. "I knew I'd have you."

"Y-you did?" Erandur forced out, trying for nonchalance and failing.

"I knew it. Knew I'd ruin you for everyone but me."

Erandur made a noise of protest that dissolved into a moan as the Argonian guided the Dunmer's dark grey shaft between his two, thick ones. He was careful not to catch the dark elf's tender bits on his barbs - something for which Erandur was immensely grateful. The sensation of being squeezed between two throbbing organs had Erandur nearly to his peak within moments. He slid his arms around the Argonian as the dragonborn rolled them over, rutting against Erandur roughly. The dark elf's hands found purchase on the ridges of old scars on Heart-Eater's back.

"I thought you intended to proposition me at the Windpeak Inn. I took one look at you and thought you wanted me to take you out back and take you like a bar wench."

Erandur's noise of surprise and arousal was so loud that Heart-Eater actually paused, waiting to be sure they hadn't attracted any unwanted attention. When no beasties attacked and the only noise to be heard was the crackling of the fire and a soft snort from Snowfoot, the Argonian commenced rutting again, more slowly this time. He licked Erandur's ear again, bearing down with his hips.

"How does it feel, to do this with a lizard? A creature?"

"It'd feel better if you _\- ah-_ would _stop talking!"_ Erandur exclaimed, and reached up to press this tips of his fingers against Heart-Eater's gills. The dragonborn groaned and shuddered, pressing his nose into Erandur's hair.

"Your negativity is taxing," the dark elf continued, gripping Heart-Eater's curved horns for balance before wrapping his legs around the Argonian's waist and bucking up against wondrous friction. "Can we not call a truce? Set your prejudice aside and help me reach my peak."

The Argonian's tail smacked the ground hard and his gills flared as the long slits on his twin shafts released hot bursts of seminal fluid. Growling savagely, the Argonian held Erandur down by the throat, his free hand reaching down to tug a hasty, near-painful rhythm on the dark elf's prick. He raked his sharp, reptilian teeth over Erandur's ear and that was all it took to send the priest careening over the edge.

As barbaric as Heart-Eater was in the throes of passion, he was positively tender afterwards. He laid close, his body sheltering Erandur from the elements as they recovered.

"Well, old elf? Did you enjoy that?" he murmured softly. Erandur nodded.

"Did you?"

Heart-Eater nuzzled his cheek in response. He rolled off of the dark elf with a grunt, reaching for his tunic. He wiped their bellies clean and made sure his scales were sitting right, now that his privates had retracted.

"Do you do this with all your travelling companions?" Erandur joked, stretching slowly and turning over onto his stomach. With his robes still up around his waist it gave Heart-Eater a very pleasing view of his backside, which made the dragonborn grin.

"Only the ones I like very much."

"So you do like me, pointed ears and all."

"Never denied it. As I said, you're the exception."

Erandur shook his head, smiling.

"You're maddening, you know. You and your grudges."

"You and your ethics."

Erandur sighed warmly as Heart-Eater pulled a thick ice wolf pelt over them both, snuggling close.

"Will you stay with me, gray-skin?"

"As long as you'll have me, lizard."

Heart-Eater shut his eyes and licked across Erandur's smile.

"Good."

**Author's Note:**

> The scars on Heart-Eater's back are results of spending his early years in slavery. As for chronolgy between games, I'm just gonna say he was born in a residual pocket where the practice was still active. He got out somehow, and then got to Dawnstar, which leads to him getting to be in this pwp, which is honestly why you're all probably here.
> 
> Fun fact: this is my first time writing for this fandom.


End file.
